


first

by dutchydoescoke



Series: apart at the seams [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 01:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10503996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchydoescoke/pseuds/dutchydoescoke
Summary: They’re in Russia, she knows. If the Cyrillic didn’t give it away, the cold would have.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so there was a prompt over at the [Shadowhunters Prompt Ficathon](http://ladygawain.livejournal.com/83816.html) about Dot and what happens to her during s1. I didn't cover all of that here, this is just set during 1.02/1.03. plays a teeny bit fast and loose with the timing in that ep too.
> 
> Set in the same universe as "aftermath", thus the series.
> 
> warning for mention of Valentine's torture of Dot.

The foreign blood _burns_ in her system when he first injects her with it, acid through her veins, and she can barely breathe for the pain. She screams herself hoarse, shredding her own vocal cords to try and distract from how it feels. Her voice is gone by the time dawn creeps up through the windows that first night.

They’re in Russia, she knows. If the Cyrillic didn’t give it away, the cold would have. She’s dressed for New York’s fall, not Russia’s, and the fire searing her from the inside is almost welcome for the facsimile of warmth she gets from it. It, at least, means she isn’t freezing to death on a concrete floor in a _cage_.

Her magic won’t respond to her right away after the first injection. She tries and tries and tries to reach for it, scrabbling after it like rats at crumbs, but it’s too far out of reach. It makes her sick, to go without for so long. Even in hiding, even with Clary’s Sight obscured, she still did little things, every day, to keep it up, to feel the rush that comes with her magic sparking at her fingertips.

It’s an echoing emptiness inside her, makes her shaky and nauseous, almost like withdrawal. (Or maybe that’s the blood. She doesn’t know.)

It takes hours, trying for a spark, just enough to get her cuffs off. When she finally, _finally_ feels her magic at her fingertips again, a wave of relief crashes over her, so overwhelming, she almost wants to cry. Her magic hasn’t fought her this hard _ever_ , and what she manages to summon up flickers out the first few times.

When it stays and gathers enough for her cuffs to come off, she spends a minute watching the blue smoke dissipate, because no matter what he injected her with, she still has her magic, it’s still _hers_. Blasting the door to the cage open is even more satisfying, even if _he_ shows back up, drags her back and locks her up again.

The second injection hurts almost worse than the first.

Her voice is almost gone by now. She screams anyway.


End file.
